The Farmer's Wife
by tapioca two-step
Summary: Jack married Muffy. To Marlin's horror, Celia's taking it badly. AWL. Prompt for the 12 Days of Christmas Challenge. Celia, Marlin, and Vesta being...Vesta.


The Farmer's Wife

Another 12 Days of Christmas challenge prompt! Day nine's prompt is Green/Flowers. You'll find that this story has a lot less green and a lot more flowers.

What's that? There are other characters in Harvest Moon besides the Harvest Goddess/King/Sprites/Farmer? Hmm.

* * *

Marlin woke up when he heard Celia leave.

 _Dear Goddess. Again._

He lay on his back for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the pitch darkness of the farmhouse. In the bed beside his, his sister Vesta snored loud enough to wake the dead, and anybody but him would have missed Celia's soft footsteps as she descended the stairs from the attic and opened the front door. Not Marlin, though—he heard the faint squeak of the front door's hinges as Celia closed it softly behind her. His sighed. He could even tell by the way she breathed as she slept if she was having a good dream or a nightmare. It was creepy, but he couldn't help it. Five years of living side by side with the doe-eyed farm girl had tuned all of his senses to her. It had started with him liking the same foods as she did and humming the same songs as they worked the fields. Lately, it had become so bad that he was upset whenever she was, and whenever she laughed, his lips would curl upwards, too.

It had been weeks since she'd laughed. Two weeks, to be exact. He'd seen the joy leave her eyes as soon as Jack and his blushing blonde bride had announced their marriage to the citizens of Forget-Me-Not Valley. Marlin himself held nothing against Muffy. More specifically, he thought nothing of her. She was the airhead assistant of the town's reliable bartender, a beautiful girl who had announced her intention to marry Jack the very day he came to take over his late father's farm. His thoughts on Jack were another story entirely. His jaw tightened as he thought about the way Celia's face would light up whenever Jack popped his head in the open window above the kitchen sink and asked to buy seeds, or present them with a bouquet of wildflowers he'd picked on his way over to visit. Even Vesta would thunder with laughter and invite him in, and she and Celia would fawn over the handsome, sun-browned young man while Marlin fumed in the corner.

And then Jack had gone and married Muffy.

Standing next to Vesta and Celia, he'd watched Jack's and Muffy's silhouettes retreating towards Jack's farm after introducing themselves as man and wife. Celia felt like a statue at his shoulder, and his huge bodybuilder of a sister shook her head. "Damn shame," she'd grunted, before squishing away through the winter mud in her rubber boots. "You two, come back inside before you catch a chill."

Marlin had fidgeted beside Celia, watching her eyes as they tracked Jack and Muffy until she could no longer see them. And then she'd just stood there, in the middle of the road, looking like a lost sheep.

"Celia?" he'd asked.

She'd muttered something he didn't catch. It was only when he put an awkward hand on her shoulder that she'd turned to him and said, woodenly, "I don't understand. I was supposed to be the farmer's wife."

Marlin sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, running his fingers through his jet black hair before standing up and stretching. Vesta mumbled something into her pillow and began to snore even louder. It would take an air horn to wake her up—he didn't need to worry about making noise. He frowned down at his slightly sunken chest, then grabbed his white button-up from the foot of the bed. He hadn't quite built up the muscle he'd lost when he'd gotten sick, but he was working on it. Before Jack's wedding, Celia had been filled with compliments and encouragement. _You're losing those sharp cheekbones, Marlin. You must be eating well. Is that a suntan I see? It looks good on you! Lately, you seem to be smiling more. Somehow, it looks nostalgic. I wish you'd smile all the time._

But now, she kept doing _this_ kind of stuff. Picking at her food at dinnertime instead of eating it. Going about her work on Vesta's farm as sullenly as _he_ used to. Waking up and all ungodly hours of the night to sit on the wooden fence bordering the property, just staring into space for hours. And that's exactly where he found her.

The springtime night was balmy and clear, promising another day of good weather when the sun rose. The moonlight formed a silver halo on Celia's glossy crown of hair, which was usually tucked under an embroidered orange bandanna. She looked so much more mature without it, but Marlin didn't dare tell her that now. He merely walked up next to her and leaned his elbows on the beam she was sitting on.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked with practiced nonchalance.

"Not at all," she answered, just as she had for the past two weeks when he'd followed her outside. "Did I wake you?"

He sniffed. "Nah. I was already up."

"Liar."

"Am not. Did you get any sleep?"

"Plenty."

"Liar."

This was their practiced dialogue. Next, she would bring up Vesta's snoring, and he would counter with some jab about Celia sleeping in the attic—

"You're one to talk. How could you get any sleep with your sister sawing logs in your ear?"

"I sleep much better than you, Miss Attic-Dweller. I'm surprised you don't come downstairs any morning with icicles hanging from your ears."

He continued to play along, despite how sick it made him feel. The words were lighthearted, but the mood was not. Celia was reciting her words like she was acting a part in a play, just as sick of it as he was. He grit his teeth.

"How are you feeling, Celia?"

"Fine. The crops are doing well, aren't they?" Celia shrugged her shawl further over her narrow shoulders and smiled down at him. "We'll have a good harvest this month."

He looked at the two fields they owned, at the growing green shoots of tomato plants and watermelon vines. "We will. It's because of your hard work."

"And yours, and Vesta's. The three of us are a good team."

Marlin's hand balled into fists. "We are. Vesta and I…we'd miss you if you weren't here."

Celia giggled, an empty, eerie sound. "Silly, where else would I go? I belong on the farm."

The implication in her words was raw as an open wound. He looked up, expecting to meet her soft brown eyes, but she was looking towards the ocean, a statue once again.

"Celia, this…this has got to stop."

"What does?"

Agonized, he jammed his hands into his pockets. "This whole _thing_ that you're doing. You're not taking care of yourself. Everyone's noticed it. You've stopped doing all your normal stuff. I know that you're sad. I get it. But you're going too far."

"Too far?"

Marlin glanced up. Celia's expression was cold and hard. "Too far?" she repeated. "What could you _possibly_ understand about the situation, to think that I'm going _too far_?"

"Celia…."

"You should just shut your mouth, Marlin. You don't know anything about _anything._ "

Her calloused fingers clenched the corners of her shawl tight enough to wrinkle it. An astounded Marlin fought the urge to lash back at her. "What's gotten into you?" he breathed. "You're not like this."

She snorted. "What, am I inconveniencing you with my emotions? Am I bringing you down, Mr. Mopey? Do I need to excuse myself so my bad attitude doesn't make you sick again? Goddess, you're just like a sponge, aren't you, sucking up all the negative energy in a room. Mustn't damage Marlin's delicate constitution with a frown, oh no. Can't have that."

Her normally soft voice had become tighter and tighter as she ranted, and as soon as she finished, she choked on a harsh sob. Marlin gazed at the tears streaking down her babyish face, wondering who this stranger was, and if she'd ever give his smiling, cheerful Celia back.

"I'm sorry," he said, uncertain as to exactly what he was apologizing for. Celia made an ugly noise.

"Me, too," she muttered, although he was certain she wasn't referencing her earlier insults. He gnawed on his lower lip.

"You really loved him, huh?" Even asking the question made his chest burn.

Her head lowered until the earth-colored curtain of her hair hid her face. "A flower can live in the rain," she muttered. "It can live for days and days with just rain and soil. But it'll bloom so beautifully in the sunlight." Her shoulders began to shake. "The day I met Jack, he gave me a Goddess Drop and told me that I reminded him of a flower. So…I began to bloom. For him."

Marlin paled. Hearing about Celia's feelings for Jack never failed to stoke his jealousy, but he swallowed his complaint.

"And then he w-went and m- _married_ her," Celia choked out, her words muffled by her shawl. "He came over here every day and gave me flowers and talked about farming with me, and then he just ripped me right out of the ground."

"Celia…."

"I don't want your pity, Marlin," she interrupted. "I know you hated him. You gave him trouble every time he walked through the door, so don't try to make me feel any better about it."

"I didn't—"

"Maybe you'd better get back to bed." It was an order, not a suggestion, but he dared to speak to her once more.

"I'm sorry for saying anything. We're worried about you, Celia. We just want you to be happy again."

"Don't expect me to be," she said dully, and then slid off the fence. He could only watch as she left him behind, wandering into the night, her footsteps as light as a deer's. With a disgusted snort, he spun on his heel and headed inside, slamming the door behind him. To his surprise, Vesta's deep voice called to him in the dark. "Celia's upset again?"

"Something like that," he answered sulkily, stomping over and throwing himself back onto his bed.

Vesta shifted under her comforter. The bed creaked under her bulk. "You shouldn't bother her," she chided. "Poor kid."

Marlin threw his arm over his eyes, stewing. Then he stilled. "Hey, Vesta."

"Hmm?"

"I have an idea."

"Is it a good idea, or a stupid one?"

"…Probably a stupid one."

"Sounds fun. What is it?"

Marlin cleared his throat. "I was thinking about giving her some flowers."

* * *

Celia left soon after breakfast the next day, a basket over her arm, her steps stiff and measured. Marlin watched her cross the bridge as Vesta dialed the phone number of the merchant who lived in Mineral Town. "Van," she bellowed in the receiver. "Hey, it's Vesta. I need a favor." A pause. "No, don't give me that bull. I know it's your day off. You get your fat ass over the mountain without having a heart attack and I'll pay you for the trouble."

A few minutes and a few hundred gold later, Vesta slammed the phone back on the receiver. "He'll be here in an hour," she boomed at Marlin, who was pulling on his gardening gloves. "You owe me big, by the way."

"Take it out of my paycheck."

"Damn right. I'm taking it out of your next five paychecks. Watermelons are expensive, you know."

Marlin grabbed his trowel. "When's Celia getting back from her picnic with Lumina?"

"Definitely before you finish this whole harebrained idea, if you keep jabbering away like this. Let's get that smile back on our little girl's face, shall we?"

* * *

He'd never worked so hard before. Or maybe his heart was thundering because he was nervous about what she could think. Absorbed in his work, he didn't look up from the field until he heard a shocked gasp behind him.

"M-Marlin?"

Marlin spun around. Celia had just come around the corner of the barn, and her eyes were huge in her face as she took in the sight of dark, moody Marlin standing in a field of baby-pink roses where all their watermelons used to be.

"What on earth?" she cried. "Where did these come from?"

He felt like he'd been hit by a truck and knew he had to look ridiculous—hands covered with dirt, pants stained with mud, standing in a field of the most ridiculously girly flowers he'd ever planted. They'd all die in a few days, and he'd have to spend extra time replanting the fruit he'd uprooted—not to mention never hearing the end of it from Vesta. But it was all worth it to see the pure shock stamped on Celia's face.

He looked around at the carpet of pink roses, like a guilty child that had been caught tracking mud into the house. "You, uh…you like them?"

Celia, frozen to the spot, set her basket down. "You planted these?" she asked, gazing at the swaying, half-blown blossoms.

"Yeah," he said uneasily. "I guess."

"Oh, Marlin, they're beautiful!" Celia stepped forwards and dropped to her knees, cupping her hands around a blossom and breathing in. "They smell wonderful," she gushed. Marlin, who was very allergic to their pollen, could smell nothing. He watched her for a minute, watching for any sign of melancholy in her face. He decided to venture an explanation.

"Last night," he said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away, "you said something that really made me…uh, well, it made me think. It's okay for you to still be sad. I'm sure there will be lots of days when you won't be able to be all happy or whatever. I get it." His cheeks reddened when he noticed Celia's eyes shining with tears. _Aw, man,_ he thought, _I'm screwing this all up._ "I guess I just wanted to show you that flowers can regrow. You know?"

Celia grabbed two fistfuls of her apron and covered her face. "Yeah," she finally said, when she'd wiped her eyes. "They can, can't they?"

They faced each other across the field of pink roses, and Marlin thought his heart would beat out of his chest when Celia's smile finally, _finally_ reached her eyes again.

"Thank you, Marlin," she half-whispered. "They're all so beautiful."

Marlin cleared his throat. A simple _you're welcome_ wouldn't do in this case. "I just thought you might like to get your roots back in the ground again. You know. So you can maybe find someone else to bloom for." He shuffled his work boots in the dirt. "You could…you could still be a farmer's wife."

This time, it was Celia's turn to blush. She turned away, hiding behind her apron. "Oh, Marlin…."

Then, from the farmhouse's open window, Vesta's voice crashed through their tender moment like a dead tree falling.

"Oh, for _Goddess's_ sake, would you two idiots just kiss already?!"


End file.
